sadisticmika

I thought I would swim out until I was too tired to swim back. As I paddled on, my heartbeat boomed like a dull motor in my ears.

I am I am I am.
-Sylvia Plath The Bell Jar (1963)

Sun struck the water like a damnation.
No pit of shadow to cralw into,
And his blood beating the old tattoo
I am, I am, Iam.
-Sylvia Plath Suicide Off Egg Rock (1959)




I am deprived of faith and therefore not happy, because a man who risks fearing that his life is nothing but an absurd wandering toward a certain death is not able to be happy.

I leave solid dreams and loose connections. I leave a promising path, that has promised me self-despise and common recognition. I leave a poor reputation and the promise of an even worse. I leave a few hundred thousand words, some written in rapture, most written in boredom and for money. I leave a lousy economy, a wavering stand towards the questions of the day, a better used doubt and a hope of liberation.

I take with me on the journey a useless knowledge of the earth's globe, a superficial knowledge of the philosophies and the third party, a longing for extinction and a hope of liberation. I take with me, moreso, a deck of cards, a typewriter and an unhappy love for the european youth. I take with me finally the vision of an epitaph, raised in the desert or on the bottom of the sea and with the following inscription :

HERE RESTS
A SWEDISH AUTHOR
FALLEN FOR NOTHING
THE CRIME WAS INNOCENCE
FORGET HIM ALWAYS
--Stig Dagerman

Born October 25, 1923 in Alvkarleby, Sweden
Died November 4, 1954 in Enebyberg, Sweden, Suicide.




They always want to hear about; they want to hear an objective conference on "The Theatre and the Plague", and I want to give them the experience itself, the plauge itself, so they will be terrified, and awaken. I want to awaken them. They do not realize they are dead -Antonin Artaud, in a conversation w/ Anais Nin.

It is what I do in writing... while I exist in the left field. What I do quite poorly.
Entre le cu et la chemise,




Current Mood: Broke.

Occupation: Waiting for the Storm, Looking for Four important numbers, Anxiety Always.

Dreamsong 101
A shallow lake, with many waterbirds,
especially egrets: I was showing Mother around,
An extraordinary vivid dream
of Betty & Douglass, and Donhis mother's estate
was on the grounds of a lunatic asylum.
He showed me around.

A policeman trundled a siren up the walk.
It was 6:05 p.m., Don was late home.
I askt if he ever saw
the inmates'No, they never leave their cells.'
Betty was downstairs, Don called down 'A drink'
while showering.

I can't go into the meaning of the dream
except to say a sense of total Loss
afflicted me therof:
an absolute disappearance of continuity & love
and children away at school, the weight of the cross,
and everything is what it seems.
---John Berryman

Today: Just like yesterday.




entre le fourte et l'infre-mise,




. . . I HAVE BEEN FIGHTING FOR TWO MONTHS and I can now gauge the intensity of life.
* * *

WITH ALL THE DESTRUCTION that works around us NOTHING IS CHANGED, EVEN SUPERFICIALLY . . .

* * *

[the war is a] PALTRY MECHANISM, WHICH SERVES AS A PURGE TO OVER-NUMEROUS HUMANITY.
THIS WAR IS A GREAT REMEDY.
IN THE INDIVIDUAL IT KILLS ARROGANCE, SELF-ESTEEM, PRIDE.
IT TAKES AWAY FROM THE MASSES NUMBERS UPON NUMBERS OF UNIMPORTANT UNITS,
WHOSE ECONOMIC ACTIVITIES BECOME NOXIOUS AS THE RECENT TRADE CRISES HAVE
SHOWN US.MY VIEWS ON SCULPTURE REMAIN ABSOLUTELY THE SAME.
IT IS THE VORTEX OF WILL, OF DECISION, THAT BEGINS.
--Sculptor, Henri Gaudier-Brzeska (Deceased. In Combat, June 1915.)
Printed July 1915, Blast Manifesto.




Current Mood: qu'on, te sait pas.

Current Job(s) musicien horrible, dtective d'amature, nageant vers le vous.

Current Sonic State: Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me

What this all means: J'y suis pass et net l'oublierrai pas.

My Reply: Et si on ne comprend pas l'image, ---et c'est ce que je vous entends dire en round, que vous ne comprenez pas l'image qui est au fond de mon folie, --- c'est que vous ignorez le fond, non pas des choses, mais de mon folie.

ET, ILS ONT TOUS FOUTU LE CAMP.




(left field poetry removed.)




IN THE MORNING, I wake up in my sleeping box called a bedroom that's in my living box called a house. I make my way to the feeding box called a kitchen so I can eat cereal from a box called Cap'n'Crunch. It's then time to go to the concrete box called garage and get in the rolling box called a car so I can get to work. Once there, I take a small floating box called an elevator to the work box called an office, and get into my own box called a cubicle, where I type all day on a box called a computer. Then when I get as much work done as I can, I go back to the elevator box taking me down to the parking garage box so I can drive back to the house box in my car box. Along the way I may stop at a big box called a grocery store to pick up a frozen box of dead animal parts called dinner that I can later heat in a humming box called a microwave oven so that I may eat a healthy meal. After eating I relax in a sitting box called a living room by staring at a flickering box called the TV. I decide to retire to my bedroom box so that I may rest. Before drifting off to sleep I imagine I might take some time off from the work box, so that I may go to a busy box called an airport to take a flying box called an airplane to another airport box somewhere south where I can relax in a box full of boxes called a hotel, maybe lie around in a wet box called a pool and enjoy the exotic locale. But that's for another day, for now I must live today's experience all over again tomorrow, so that I can buy more boxes, bigger boxes, and better boxes, so that I may be truly happy and fulfilled in life. And if I'm really lucky, everything will be air-conditioned.
---Pasi Nuutilainen




Hooves, dolourous bells----
All morning the
morning has been darkening

A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and (motherless *sic), a dark water




Unloosing their moons, month after month, to no purpose.
The blood flood is the flood of love,

The absolute sacrifice.
It means: no more idols but me,

Me and you.

(s)-Plath. 1964.

Je rpte, j'y suis pass et net l'oublierrai pas.

I'll talk but you won't listen to me. I know your answer, allready.
--Sinad O'Connor




entre le membre et le faux bond.




Dolphins
Sometimes i think about
Saturday's child
And all about the time
We were running wild

I've been searching
For the dolphins in the sea
And sometimes i wonder
Do you ever think of me

This world may never change
The way it's been
And all the ways of war
Won't change it back again

I'm not the one to tell
This world how to get along
I only know that peace will come
When all our hate is gone

This world may never change
---Billy Bragg




Attention: The Panchen Lama was 6 years old when he and his parents were kidnapped from their home in Tibet by the Chinese government. He is the world's youngest political prisoner and he has been missing for over 6 years.

Panchen Lama is a title like Vice-President or Prime Minister that Tibetans give to the second greatest leader of Tibet. Panchen means "Great Scholar" and Lama is a word Tibetans use for a religious teacher. We believe that the Panchen Lama is the protector of all the world's living beings.

Please take a moment to click on the image bleow, or even add it to your own site to learn more about this horrible abduction of a child, an abduction for opressive political motives.



Thank You, & Namaste. -Miike
Our need for consolation is insatiable. -Dagerman.